


On the Brightside

by nintendogs



Category: Christofer Drew - Fandom, Never Shout Never
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-03-01 00:06:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2752205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nintendogs/pseuds/nintendogs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christofer learns the struggles of being a single father. Rockwell learns the wonders of the real world and the feeling of acceptance.</p><p>I don't own anyone except Rockwell and the plot. Title and song lyrics in the one shot credit goes to Never Shout Never.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Brightside

Christofer Drew was sitting on his soft bed; humming some random, soothing melody. He was swaying back and forth while he was sitting with his legs crossed. He wasn’t really sure what exactly he was doing, but he was just hoping that it was working.  
  
The small baby in his arms, yawned, his little fists clenched and gently rubbing his eyes. Christofer stared at the little boy, curious to know what was on his mind. But the little baby was only four days old, so there was probably not much to think about, the man thought. After all, what could he even think about if the child hasn’t comprehended the English language yet? But there was just one big thing that is bothering him.  
  
I mean, who the hell leaves a four day old baby on someone’s porch on a spring afternoon?  
  
When he first heard that knock on the door and opened it to answer it, the last thing he would expect is to see a baby boy wide awake in a basket like some cliché movie. There was even a letter too with a bag full of diapers, food, and other things necessary to care for the baby.  
  
On the bright side, at least he had the things to take care of his son.  
  
But still, he couldn't believe that this baby was _his_ and he wasn't aware of this till **now**. Supposedly, his ex girlfriend was pregnant and she didn't want to tell the vocalist to not worry him. After the birth of the baby, she left it on the singer's doorstep because she didn't think she was ready to take care of a child; especially on her own. But he wished she could tell him sooner so he would _at least_ expect to see a four day old baby.  
  
The baby, who he decided to name Rockwell since it was, as Christofer would put it, better than the name ‘Timothy’ his ex girlfriend had given him. The man was somehow trusted with the responsibility of taking care of his child. He had to go back to the hospital to fill out Rockwell’s birth certificate because apparently, his ex didn’t bother to do it herself.  
  


\--

  
  
When Christofer entered the hospital (which he hoped was the right one), he earned some strange looks. Who could blame him? It’s not every day that a twenty three year old man walked into a hospital barefooted, wearing a The Beatles tank top showing off his tattoos, skinny jeans ripped in the knees, his hair all messed off making him look like he had _just_ woken up (which he did. He was taking a nap till Rockwell started crying), _and_ carrying a sleeping baby. Yes, because that’s completely normal (note the sarcasm).  
  
Christofer headed towards the hallway where the babies were located and where women were probably giving birth. Rockwell was squinting, making Christofer chuckle a little. He noticed a red headed nurse who looked like she was in her mid-twenties. Making her way towards her, he tapped her shoulder, holding his son in one arm.  
  
“Um, excuse me miss,” he mumbled out nervously.  
  
The women turned, looking Christofer up and down judgmentally. “Yes and how can I help you, sir?”  
  
“Do you happen to know if a Hannah Beth was around here?”  
  
She raised an eyebrow, excusing herself to go talk to another nurse. The other nurse who looked the same age as the red head made her way to the nervous male while the other left to enter a patient’s room. “Why yes, a Hannah Beth was here. She’s not here anymore and none of the nurses know where she and her child went off to.”  
  
“That’s why I’m here actually. She actually left this baby, who’s my son, in my doorstep. She left a note saying that she wasn’t ready to take care of him so she left him. I don’t really know where she is right now actually. In the note, she told me to go to the hospital to fill out the birth certificate I guess.”  
  
“Alright, well I have it with me right now so here you go and I’ll take him outta your hands. I’m just gonna leave him in the nursery and I’ll return him to you real soon, dear,” the women said, now holding the baby.  
  
As he filled out the information he knew, he started to fill out his son’s full name. As he finish it up, the nurse, whose name was Ann, returned with Rockwell.  
  
“I hope you’re aware that this cutie is gonna stay here for another three days till he’s ready to head home, alright?”  
  
“Okie dokie, Ann. Mind if I stick around for the next three days?” he asked, sounding hopeful.  
  
“Do you know how to change a diaper, feed, burp, and bathe a baby?” she asked with curiosity.  
  
“No,” he answered with embarrassment, looking down at his feet.  
  
“Then yes, you can stay here so that we can show you how to take of,” she stopped, looking at the certificate, “Rockwell Drew Ingle.”  
  


\--

  
  
It was now Christofer and Rockwell’s second (sixth for Rockwell, obviously) at the hospital. The two were alone at the moment. Christofer was lying down on the hospital bed, Rockwell’s head resting on his chest. The tattooed male was currently feeding the baby his third bottle of the milk as he stared at his son. Rockwell’s eyes were closed as he was enjoying his odd scented formula milk, making the man smile. He couldn’t believe that the baby resting his small, delicate head was _his_ son. He’d never really given thought about having a child of own. He didn’t have to think because his child was there, all finished with his bottle. Chris put the bottle away, looking at the boy.  
  
“You’re pretty chill for a baby,” Christofer said in a hush tone to Rockwell, his thumb stroking Rockwell’s cheek gently. Rockwell only yawned, staring at his father. “You barely cry, I only had to change your diaper once today so far instead of three, and you’re pretty damn cool. Shi—I mean, don’t say that. Don’t want you swearin’ so soon, kiddo.”  
  
The musician got up from the bed, placing Rockwell on the cart thingy that was used to lay the babies at when they were sleeping and for taking them to wherever the nurses took them. “But seriously, Rocks, if you don’t mind me callin’ you that; I’m pretty excited to have you around. I never really thought about kids, but I’m pretty fortunate to have you around.”  
  
Christofer watched as the baby slowly closed his eyes, sleep taking him away. As he noticed his chest rising evenly, the man only smiled and gave his son a little kiss on the forehead. “Sweet dreams, kiddo.”  
  


-|-|-|-

  
  
Christofer was waiting for the pot of water to get hot, but meanwhile he was teaching Rockwell to say some words he’d like to hear him say.  
  
“Repeat after me,” Christofer said. “Daddy, okay? Da-dee.”  
  
The two year old boy shocked his head, playing with his Honey Nut Cheerios he was enjoying. “Well then, how about Cheerios seeing how you can never stop eating those. Cheer-ree-o’s.”  
  
Rockwell shook his head again with a small smile. He was stubborn just like his daddy. He knew how to talk a little, but not very much. He was very much familiar with song lyrics of his dad’s band and other bands. He only knew lyrics mostly which sort of concerned the older man. Sure, his son knew how to speak full sentences but not simple words like “daddy” or anything else. Rockwell was always a slow learner but he was supposed to develop speech more around his age supposedly.  
  
As Christofer walked away and into the kitchen to pour his hot tea into a coffee mug, Rockwell colored a kitten purple in his coloring book. He chucked as he watched him sitting in his small chair coloring in his own person small table. It was set next to the table much bigger than Rockwell’s table. Christofer bought Rockwell his own dining set because he was too short to get up and sit on the other chairs. So to make him feel better, he went to Toys R Us to go buy him a small dining set that came with a table and two chairs. Plus so that he wouldn’t eat on the floor of the living room as he used to do.  
  
 _“I met a man of two feet tall. This man was quite ambitious in a world that is so vicious to us all,”_ Christofer sung, smiling at his son as he was looking at his brown teddy bear for a second.  
  
“I said ‘hi’!” Rockwell, very well familiar with the song his father written. Chris chuckled, staring at his son.  
  
“Rock, you hungry?” he asked, taking a sip of his tea. Rockwell nodded, putting a Cheerio in his mouth. “Okie dokie, I’ll make dinner right now, okay kiddo?”  
  
“Yup,” Rockwell said, running to his room.  
  


\--

  
  
By the time Christofer was putting the noodles in the boiling pot of water, Rockwell returned with a toy tea set and a tiara on his head. Christofer never questioned why his son preferred dolls over action figures, feminine colors like pink and purple over masculine colors like blue and green, that he wasn’t really fascinated by bugs, Spiderman, and watched _Handy Manny_ , and that he would much rather watch _Sofia the First_ , play with Barbie dolls, and think bugs were gross. If his son was happier being more feminine that masculine, that’s all that matters; his son’s happiness.  
  
“Would you like tea, Teddy?” Rockwell asked, already pouring imaginary tea in the pink, plastic tea cup. He turned to look at Christofer. “You drink tea?”  
  
“Yeah, kiddo; just like Teddy.”  
  
The boy nodded, setting the plastic pot on his table and sitting back down on his chair. “Like it?” Rockwell questioned, pointing to the tiara John O’Callaghan, a friend of the two, got two days ago.  
  
“Yup, you look cute with it on.”  
  
Christofer turned the stove off, putting his cooking mittens on to grab the hot pot. He poured the hot water out into the sink, careful to not drop all of the noodles into the sink. Fortunately for him, he only dropped two noodles. He grabbed two plates, one large and one small, putting the noodles on the plates and then putting the sauce he micro waved earlier.  
  
“Dinner is ready.”  
  


-|-|-|-

  
  
Christofer was currently waiting for Rockwell outside of his school. He was now six years old, in first grade. The tattooed male couldn’t believe how much and how fast his son was growing. His speech was getting better, but he didn’t talk that much still. He could hear the final bell ring from outside, watching the doors open and kids running out; some heading to where the buses were and others to their ride home.  
  
“Daddy, daddy!” Rockwell shouted, running towards his dad with tears running down his face. Christofer squatted down to his level, Rockwell running into his arms. He cried on his shoulder, ignoring the other children’s staring. Rockwell was a kid who was never embarrassed if he cried, had a temper tantrum (which rarely happened), or was too excited because he wanted to express his feelings to everyone rather than holding back.  
  
“Rocky, what’s wrong?” Christofer asked, frowning at the sight of his son being upset. Christofer thought his son never deserved to cry because he was such a sweetheart and such a fragile human being.  
  
Rockwell pulled away from his father’s embrace, sniffing and wiping his runny nose on his light blue sweater that was bit too big on him. “T-These boys were b-being m-mean to m-me, daddy. They made f-fun of me cause of my b-backpack.”  
  
Ah yes, he had a pink Disney Princess backpack. “Did they do anything else? I want you to be honest, kiddo.”  
  
The six year old rolled up his sleeve, showing a cut on his elbow. He also pointed to his knee, a large bruise exposed. He sniffed again, his lip quivering. “They pushed me and I fell to the ground.”  
  
Christofer cupped his face, his thumbs wiping away the tears that slowly ran down the six year old boy’s face. “I’m gonna go to your school tomorrow and talk to the principal, okay? I don’t wanna hear any buts’ because I don’t want you to get hurt, kiddo. You don’t deserve this, especially over your backpack. If anything like this happens again, then I want you to tell me, okay? Promise?” he asked, sticking his pinkie out.  
  
“Promise.”  
  


-|-|-|-

  
  
This was weird being here; being here at a kid’s birthday party. But Christofer had to suck it up because Rockwell, now eight years old, was so excited that he finally made a friend and said friend invited him to his 9th birthday party. The boy, whose name was Daniel, was having a costume birthday party. Lots of children were wearing superhero costumes, characters from cartoons, and video game characters. As for Rockwell, he wasn’t wearing anything like the kids there. He was dressed as Belle from _Beauty and the Beast_. He begged his dad to get this seeing how he adored Belle. Christofer could never say “no” so he bought him the costume.  
  
“I swear, who would dress their son in a girl’s costume?” a woman in her mid-thirties asked her friends, giving Rocky a questionable stare as he, Daniel, and a few other boys enjoyed their vanilla cake. “The poor boy’s parents probably did this to humiliate him. I would _never_ dress Dylan like that.”  
  
Christofer frowned, trying not to flip out on the woman. Another woman nodded her head in agreement as she gave Rockwell a weird glare. “Like really, it’s bad enough he’s probably mute but make him look like a fool? Such horrible parenting, really.”  
  
And that’s when Christofer had enough of their stupid opinions. “Hey, excuse me. Um, yeah, that cute eight year old boy dressed up as Belle is _my_ son. I don’t need your stupid criticism on how to raise my son because I’m pretty damn sure I did a fine job raising him on my own after his mom left him on my door step. He might not be the most masculine person but let me tell you something. He’s the sweetest and smartest kid I know. He gets his homework done, he cleans up his messes, he behaves, he listens, and he had more courage than I do. Why? Because he’s not ashamed of the way he looks or if he cries in front of everyone. He’s not ashamed of playing with Barbie dolls or playing with tea sets. And the fact that he wasn’t afraid to wear a dress in front of these kids makes him more courageous than you’ll ever be.  
  
No, I didn’t make him dress like this because I would never try to humiliate him in front of his new friends if that’s what you’re thinking. If liking pink and purple, dressing a bit girly, plays with dolls, having tea parties in his room, wearing tiaras, and liking Disney Princesses makes him happy then I’m happy. Because as long as my sweet Rockwell is happy and doesn’t have any worries, then everything is okay by me. And him not speaking much? Um, hello, he’s shy. He might still stumble a bit on some words, but he’s a slow learner, but also a smart kid. I hope you get some fucking common sense soon cause quite frankly, you’re lacking that. Have a good day, bye.”  
  
And with that, Christofer and Rockwell left the party; wishing Daniel a happy birthday.  
  


\--

  
  
“Daddy, why did we leave the party?” Rockwell asked as he got comfortable on his bed.  
  
It was almost 9:30 and it was time for Rockwell to go to sleep. “Because, well, I don’t wanna say.”  
  
“Why daddy?”  
  
“Because kiddo,” he started off, sighing heavily as he tucked the eight year old in and handing him Teddy. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”  
  
“I can handle it, daddy. Please, can you tell me?”  
  
Another sigh escaped the vocalist’s lips. “These people were saying mean things.”  
  
Rockwell looked confused for a moment till realization hit him. “About me?” he whispered.  
  
“No, Rockw—“  
  
“It was about me, right daddy?” The little boy had a hurt expression on his face, avoiding eye contact with his dad. It pained Christofer to see his son sad about this.  
  
“Rocks, it doesn’t matter what they did and what they said because—look at me, kiddo—you’re _so_ much better than them. I don’t want you to change one single thing about yourself. Be yourself because being yourself is the best thing you can do. No matter what anyone says about you, I want you to ignore those mean comments. Because I believe you can do anything you set your mind to.”  
  
“I wanna be just like you daddy.”  
  
“What do you mean, son?”  
  
“You’re brave and cool and smart. I wish I can be just like you when I’m a big as you.”  
  
Christofer only chuckled, kissing his son on the forehead. “Believe me, you’re already all those things.”  
  


-|-|-|-

  
  
Rockwell was now twelve years old. He’s gotten a bit more sociable over the years and out of his comfort zone every now and then. He has gotten over with playing with his dolls and his tea sets, but he was still not like most boys his age. He still had a few of his friends like Daniel, but he made more female friends than male.  
  
“Hi Mr. Ingle, how are you?” Monica, a friend of Rockwell asked as she and he both entered the house from returning from school.  
  
“I’m good and yourself?”  
  
“I’m pretty good. Come on, Rocky; let’s go paint your nails.”  
  
The two went to Rockwell’s room. Christofer didn’t mind having Rocky bringing girls over because he could tell that he wasn’t interested in any of them. Rockwell was someone who would much rather make friendships than actually be in a relationship.  
  
“So Rocky, what color do you want? Do you want pink, turquoise, light blue, or this white one with glitter?” Monica asked, holding up the nail polish bottles. “Cause I think you’d look good with this light pink one since your skin is pale but I also like the turquoise one too. What do you think?”  
  
The teen looked back and forth at the bottles, not sure which ones to pick seeing how as he liked them both. “Or maybe you paint my nails pink but one nail is turquoise like you did with your nails the other day.”  
  
“O-M-G, good idea Rocks! Okay, give me your right hand. So, did you tell your dad about you told me yesterday? Cause sooner or later he’s gonna find out and it’s better to tell him now, ya know?”  
  
“I know, I know. Don’t even remind me, Mon. But I will, maybe tonight during dinner.”  
  


\--

  
  
Tonight for dinner, Christofer was serving Rockwell’s favorite; lasagna. Rockwell loved the way his dad cooked his lasagna. It didn’t have any meat in it. It just had about five different cheeses and not as much sauce as most lasagnas. He just hoped his dad didn’t choke on it when he tells his dad the news, which was right now.  
  
“Hey dad, um, I-I wanted to tell y-you something,” he said nervously, putting his fork down gently.  
  
Chris wiped the sauce off of his mouth, giving Rockwell a concerned look. “What’s up? Is everything okay? Did something happen at school today?”  
  
“No, no, no, nothing happened; I swear. It’s just,” he stopped, letting out a nervous sigh, “It’s about me, dad.”  
  
He only blinked with a blank stare. “Okay, go on.”  
  
“Dad, I’m gay.” He let out a chuckle, smiling a little bit. “I’m gay; I am as straight as a circle. Man, that feels so good to finally tell you this, dad, you have no idea. I’ve realized this for awhile now but I haven’t told you because I just wanted to be sure. Holy crap.”  
  
The tattooed man smiled at his son. “Rocks, it’s okay if you’re gay because you’re my son and I accept you for who _you_ are. Don’t think I’m gonna see you any different because I won’t.”  
  
They continued their dinner with a comfortable silence.  
  


-=-

  
  
“So Rockwell is gay?” John asked, giving Christofer a questionable stare. “I mean, like I totally accept the fact that he is but wow, this is news.”  
  
“I think it’s kinda cute that he’s gay considering how nice he is and all,” Jordan, their friend, said with a smile.  
  
Christofer had invited them over while Rockwell was spending the night at Daniel’s house. “Yeah like, to be honest; I wasn’t surprised that he was. He’s always been different and never really showed any interest in girls.”  
  
“Well,” John said with a smile. “I think it’s nice that you accept him. That makes you a better father than ever.”  
  


-|-|-|-

  
  
When he was sixteen years old, Rocky was comfortable enough to expose his sexuality. He wasn’t afraid of everyone’s judgmental comments because he could deal with that. He’s dealt with kids saying rude things to him about being more of a girl than a boy when he was a kid. Rockwell believed that if he could go through that, then he could go through everyone’s judgment on his sexuality.  
  
As for Christofer, well, he was more worried than proud of his son exposing his sexuality to the world. Although, yes, don’t get him wrong; he was totally proud of Rockwell of not being afraid of what others think of him but also was concerned. There were more people that were against homosexuality nowadays. There were so many people shaming others and being rude that he was worried if Rockwell would do something he would regret if someone shamed him. Though Rockwell wouldn’t do anything bad; he wouldn’t even hurt a fly.  
  
Christofer was working on a new album when he stopped once he heard the door shut. “Hey Rocks,” he said with a smile. He noticed his son wearing pink and black sunglasses which confused him. Rocky didn’t leave the house with sunglasses on. “What’s with the sunglasses, kiddo?”  
  
“U-Uh, it’s nothing, dad,” Rockwell said nervously. “Um, I got homework to do.”  
  
The tattooed man got up, gently grabbing his son by the arm to stop him. When Rockwell flinched from the touch, he felt a pang of hurt. “No, tell me what’s wrong. Did anything happen at school today? Remember you made a promise to tell me if anything happened; don’t go back on your promise because you never do.”  
  
Rockwell turned to face his dad, hugging him and crying on his right shoulder. “D-Dad, they beat me up. I-I was just s-sitting there by the bench waiting for t-the b-bus to arrive then these two big guys named Josh and Bryan b-beat me up.” He took off his sunglasses, revealing a bruise on his left eye. “T-they did it cause I’m g-gay. All the kids make fun of me for it, dad.”  
  
This broke Christofer’s heart. “I’m gonna put you out of that school, okay? You don’t need this, you don’t fucking deserve this. You’re so much better than those kids because you’re a smart, nice, and rad as hell kid. Don’t say, “No dad, I can handle it” because it’ll get worse the longer you stay there. Hell, let’s move. I’m kind of getting sick and tired of this town anyway.”  
  
“But what about my friends, Monica and Daniel? I can’t just leave them here.”  
  
“The real question is, do you want to deal with all of this here?”  
  


-|-|-|-

  
  
Eighteen year old Rockwell was happier than ever there in the small town of Austintown, Ohio. They have been living there a month after Rocky got beaten up. It was a great town filled with great people. There weren’t as many rude ones as there were back in Joplin, Missouri which Rockwell and Christofer were thankful for. In fact, Rockwell had more friends here than back in Missouri. And his friends were nicer, funnier, more outgoing, and especially accepting.  
  
“Hey dad, can I invite a friend over?” Rockwell asked from the kitchen as he was going to make tea for him and his dad.  
  
“Yeah sure, who is it?”  
  
“You don’t know him but he’s really cool. His name is Logan.”  
  
“How old is he?”  
  
“He’s nineteen, out of school and is attending college. But really, you don’t have to wor—“  
  
“Hmm, I don’t know, Rockwell. I mean most college guys do drugs and get drunk of their asses. I don’t know if he’d be a good influence on you.”  
  
“Dad, he’s a really nice guy, believe me. Don’t judge him already, you never even met him.”  
  
Christofer sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “Okay, I guess he can come over tomorrow.”  
  
“Awesome, thanks dad!”  
  


-=-

  
  
“Dad, we’re home!” Rockwell announced, setting his backpack on the couch.  
  
“Nice to meet you Mr. Ingle, I’m Logan,” a teenage boy, taller than Rockwell but almost as tall as Christofer said. “I’m a big fan of your music, sir.”  
  
The boy, who was supposedly Logan, had messy chestnut brown hair. He was wearing hipster sunglasses and a happy smile, showing off his pearly white teeth. The nineteen year old was wearing a knit sweater that was baggy on him due to his thin frame and very tight navy blue skinny jeans. On his feet were black Toms.  
  
“Nice to meet you, Logan. You can call me Christofer, sir makes me feel old. And thanks, it’s always nice to hear that from fans.”  
  
“Actually dad, I wanted to tell you something about Logan and me,” Rockwell spoke up nervously, looking down at his pink Vans he got three weeks ago. “Logan and are dating, and we have been for about three months. He wanted to meet you for awhile now and I just felt really bad about not telling you this sooner. I’m,” he sighed,” I’m sorry.”  
  
Christofer chuckled a little with a smile. “Kiddo, I figured you got yourself a boyfriend seeing how you’re happier and leave the house more. So Logan, wanna stay for dinner?”  
  
“I’d like that.”  
  


-=-

  
  
“He got a boyfriend, that’s great!” Garret, a friend of John but a stranger to Chris, said happily. “What’s his name?”  
  
“His name is Logan. He’s nineteen and in college. But I’m not that worried cause he’s a really nice guy. I think he’s really good for Rocks since he’s never really had a guy like Logan around.”  
  
“But what about that Daniel kid he used to hang out with?” John asked, grabbing a Nirvana tank top. The three were currently at the mall. “He seemed like a nice guy when we met him that one time at his birthday party.”  
  
Christofer looked at the vinyl records, picking up a Pink Floyd album. “Yeah but I think his guy could really be the best thing he needs.”  
  


-|-|-|-

  
  
Three years after Rockwell graduated, he got a record deal. He and Logan (still happily together) were in their own little band, Like a Giant (just some lyrics from the song, On the Brightside by his dad’s band). Like a Giant weren’t as big as Never Shout Never, but they were out there performing and selling their first ever album. Like a Giant was an acoustic indie band that just liked to have fun. They weren’t in it for the fame and money, just to have fun and make people smile with their music.  
  
As for Christofer, he didn’t make music anymore. Although he had a lot of fun doing it, he’d rather sit back and relax and watch how his son’s dreams came true.  
  
Just being like his daddy.  
  
Like right now, he was watching Like a Giant perform in a somewhat small venue. It was probably their biggest crowd they ever had and as a father, he was proud of the success his son’s music has made.  
  
“Alright, this song is about having a dream and achieving it. This song is called Hope.”  
  
 _“Hey there, I got a dream  
A dream so big it’s hard to believe  
Hey there, I’m just screaming  
My heart out as I leave  
Here, in, this, town.  
Don’t get down  
  
Cause anything you set your mind to  
Can always come true  
And all that happiness that you feel,  
Don’t let anyone try to steal—  
Don’t, don’t, don’t mope  
You’ll get there with a little thing called hope.”_  
  


\--

  
  
“You did a great job out there you two,” Christofer said with a proud smile. “I’m really proud of you both, really.”  
  
“Thanks dad,” Rockwell said with a smile. “Oh my god, guess what?”  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“John called me and asked if we could tour with him and we obviously agreed to it. I think this could get us more fans!”  
  
“That’s great, kiddo!”  
  
With that, Rockwell ran back to where Logan was, giving him a huge from behind. He watched as Logan kissed his son on the forehead, him giggling.  
  
Christofer Drew was truly proud of Rockwell. He was proud of how he went from the shy, quiet kid to an adult with so much going for him and has gotten the confidence that was in him all along. He was happy that for twenty three years old Rockwell’s life, he never changed one single thing about himself. He stayed true just like Christofer told him to that night on the day of Daniel’s birthday party. He was still that boy who wore nail polished, loved the colors pink and purple, watched all the Disney Princesses movies, and watched chick flicks with no shame.  
  
And that was the best thing Christofer has ever seen; a kid whose personality and faith never died.


End file.
